Get That Wand Outta My Face!
by Ami Celeste
Summary: Marcie Davis never in a million years expected her mother to be a witch. So when an owl arrives with a letter saying that she and her family are invited to watch the Triwizard Tournament as a foreign relations endeavor by the British Ministry of Magic, it comes as a bit of a shock. How will Hogwarts react to this brash American girl? T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my second fanfiction! If you are following me, thank you! If you just stumbled upon this while browsing in the Harry Potter section, check out my first story if you know of Detective Conan/Case Closed. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. DO YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE KILLED FRED IF I OWNED IT?!**

Chapter 1

Marcie was just sitting around, minding her own business. She didn't ask for an owl to burst through her window. So, when said owl did indeed burst through her window, she was understandably disconcerted.

"HOLY SHIT! AN EFFING OWL JUST FLEW THROUGH MY WINDOW! AREN'T THOSE STUPID THINGS SUPPOSED TO BE EFFING NOCTURNAL? #%$!"

The owl gave her a dirty look, and thought, _That was one creative curse word. _It dropped its letter in her lap. _I wonder why this brash American girl is being invited. Her family must be really impor—MOUSE! MUST CATCH MOUSE!_

Marcie watched in shock as the owl abruptly flew towards her pet mouse, Cheesehead. The owl started pecking at it, trying to catch it in its beak.

"No! Shoo! Get away from him! He's mine!" she yelled, swatting the owl away from Cheesehead.

_Some people,_ the owl thought before it flew off.

Marcie frantically tried to comfort a hysterical Cheesehead. "It's okay, Cheesey. It's okay. The owl is gone now."

Cheesehead would have a chronic phobia of owls for the rest of his life.

Marcie opened the letter that the owl had dropped on her lap.

"Stupid effing owls ignoring their natural sleep pattern and terrorizing my mouse. What kind of messed up world is this?!" she muttered to herself, giving the outward impression of a deranged psychopath.

She pulled a piece of parchment out of the envelope. "We are pleased to inform you and your family that you have been invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in order to bear  
witness to the historic reintroduction of the Triwizard Tournament." She stopped reading.

"Stupid prank, training an owl to deliver a bogus letter from bogus wizards. LAME!"

She stomped down the stairs to the kitchen. "Hey, Mom, you'll never guess what just happened. Some creepo trained an owl to fly in the daytime to deliver some stupid letter of stupidity about wizards or something, and then that effing owl tried to eat Cheesehead!"

She stopped suddenly when she saw that her mother was wearing a 'deer in the headlights' expression that looked rather comical. She continued speaking, holding in laughter at her mom's ridiculous expression. "Anyway, it was just some junk about warthogs and schools and wizards and tournaments." Her mother was still frozen in shock. "Mom? Hellooo? Anyone home?"

"May I please see that letter?" her mom said, her voice shaking.

"Sure thing. By the way, have you seen my collection of rubber body parts? I want to play a prank."

"Sure, Marcie. They're in the garage."

As she left to find her novelty body parts, her mother, Dana, crept up to her room. She stared at the letter, eventually finding the courage to open it. She read it all the way through.

_Oh, David, _she thought hopelessly. _I came to America to get rid of my Wizarding past. The discrimination against Muggles, Muggle-borns, and Squibs was unbearable. Here, it's better. All I have to do is serve jury duty for the American Wizarding Government. Here, they don't hate Muggles as much. I can tell them that I'm homeschooling Marcie. I've tried to hide the signs of Marcie's magic from her. But, now we've been invited to Hogwarts for some idiotic foreign relations endeavor by the British Ministry of Magic. What should I do? All those years ago, before you died, you said that you wished that there wasn't a Statute of Secrecy. That you, as a Muggle, deserved to know, even before you married me. What should I do? What should I do…_

She cried herself to sleep.

_In her dream, she saw people whose names and faces had long been forgotten. They were jeering and taunting two men who had been dating. David broke up the fight, and forced the impromptu mob to back down. When Dana asked him why he had risked his safety for two strangers, he said:_

**"You shouldn't have to hide who you are."**

She woke with a start, David's words still echoing in her mind. She knew what she had to do.

She walked into the garage, where Marcie was setting up her prank. "Marcie, dear, I have something I need to tell you."

"Can it wait? I'm kinda busy right now," Marcie said as she balanced the bucket of fake blood precariously on top of the tall shelf.

"It needs to be now." Inwardly, Dana felt like she was about to throw up. She might lose her nerve if she didn't act soon.

"Uhh, okay, sure thing, Mom." Marcie hoped this wasn't about the exploding seagull again. All she wanted was revenge for the damn seagull eating her PB&J, so she fed it some Alka-Seltzer. Next thing you know, bingo bango, there were blood, guts and feathers everywhere.

"There's something I need to tell you…about that letter…and me, my past."

"Huh? Don't tell me _you_ sent that letter?" She eyed her mom suspiciously. "I knew you were up to something…" she said, wagging her finger.

"Listen to what I have to say. I was born in Britain—"

"Wha—? You told me you were born in Missouri!" Marcie interrupted incredulously. "Are you pranking me?"

"Don't interrupt, please. I was born in Britain, and raised as a part of the magical community. I attended the school in the letter. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I graduated at the top of my class, but in Britain there is a lot of discrimination against non-magical people. I left because I wanted to get away from all that. Later, when I married your father, and had you, I divorced myself from the Wizarding world entirely. I've been trying to convince you that the strange things that keep happening around you are coincidences, but the truth is, they are your untrained magical powers erupting out of you. You are an unusually powerful witch, dear, so perhaps it was for the best that this letter came. I needed to tell you eventually."

Marcie stared at her mother. "You're crazy. There's no such thing as wizards!"

Dana sighed. "I suppose I'll have to offer you some concrete proof." She started to walk out of the garage, and beckoned Marcie to follow her. Marcie trailed after her reluctantly. Dana led Marcie to her bedroom. She opened the drawer to her bedside table and pulled out a long, thin stick of wood. Her wand. She hadn't touched it in so long, although she kept it close in case of intruders. "Watch closely, Marcie."

She flourished her wand and murmured, "_Aguamenti_." Water flowed out of the tip of her wand.

Marcie remained unimpressed. "You could have some kind of tube in there."

Dana brandished her wand angrily and muttered, "_Wingardium leviosa._" The entire bedside table floated into the air.

"Wires," Marcie said stubbornly.

Dana gritted her teeth; why did her daughter have to be so _logical?_ Normally she faulted wizards for their lack of practical logic, but now it was working against her.

"_Silencio," _she said, pointing her wand at her daughter. Marcie's eyes widened as she tried to speak, to no avail.

"I've been itching to do that for years," Dana said, smiling with satisfaction. She cast the countercurse. "Do you believe me now?"

Marcie nodded, eyes still bugging out of her head. "Are you ready to hear more about the Wizarding world?" Dana asked teasingly. Marcie nodded so hard it was a wonder that her head stayed attached to her neck. "I'll take that as a yes."

As they talked, Dana felt a huge weight being lifted from her chest. She had thought she was happy. As she revealed things about herself that she hadn't spoken aloud in years, she realized that she was happy _now._ No more secrets. It was time to lift the veil, and show her daughter through the world she had grown up in. The world she had loved for its wonder, magic, and beauty. The world she had hated for its bigotry, prejudice, and corruption.

As she explained the complex rules of Quidditch to her daughter, she made a silent vow. She swore to herself that she would protect her daughter from the evils of the world that was her old life. At any cost. Even that of her own life.

**A/N: So, is it good? Bad? So-so? Tell me! Review please! Don't worry, I'll introduce all your favorite characters soon, but keep in mind, this story is mainly about Marcie and her mother. They'll be getting a lot of screen time. Or is it page time? Until next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, second chapter. It'll probably be a few more weeks before any of your favorite characters come into the story. Actually, I'm not sure, even though I know the storyline, I never know how many chapters it will take to get there. I once dedicated four chapters to one night in a story! (And they were like 1,000 words long too…)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Harry Potter. I do not ow— *Slap* Sorry, I need to get that checked out.**

Chapter 2

"Hey, don't wizards usually have flying carpets or something like that? Why are we taking a plane?" Marcie asked.

Dana glanced around the plane nervously. "Marcie, shush! Statute of Secrecy, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"In response to your question, taking a plane is easier and more comfortable than crossing the Atlantic Ocean by broomstick, as western wizards don't use flying carpets. In fact, there's an embargo on all flying carpets in Britain, because technically carpets are Muggle objects, and it is illegal to enchant Muggle objects without the proper paperwork," Dana explained quietly.

Marcie pondered this. "Aren't brooms Muggle objects too?" she whispered, taking her cue from her mother.

To this Dana replied, "Do you ever sweep the floor with a wooden broomstick? Most of the time Muggles use metal and plastic brooms."

"Ohhhh. So, do you need to have a flying license to fly a broomstick?"

"Nope. Most Hogwarts students learn how to fly during their first year at Hogwarts, although first years aren't allowed to play on their house team."

"House team?"

"Yes, upon arrival the first years are sorted into their houses. The houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Gryffindors are known for their courage, Ravenclaws for their intelligence, Hufflepuffs for their loyalty, and Slytherins for their cunning."

"Huh," came the intelligent reply. "So, what are we supposed to do for another eleven hours?"

"Sleep," grunted Dana.

_Oh, joy,_ thought Marcie. _I'm going to die of boredom._

(line break)

After they exited the airport, Marcie barely had time to catch her breath before her mother flagged down a taxi. After they got out of the taxi, they walked down a crowded street.

"Where are we going?" Marcie asked her mother.

"Diagon Alley," she replied. "It's the _only_ place in London where you can buy everything you'll need for Hogwarts."

"Everything I'll need? But we're just visiting to watch this tournament thingy, right?"

"Wrong," her mother replied. "Since, in the Wizarding World, all young witches and wizards start their magical education at age eleven, I've decided that I've been putting it off too long. You'll be Sorted with the first years, and, as you are fourteen, you will have class with the fourth years. Of course, they'll expect you to be up to date with three years' worth of curriculum, which is why we've come two months early."

"Wait…You dragged me out of the country TWO MONTHS before we were supposed to leave?!"

"Cheer up, it'll be two months of learning magic, and the Quidditch World Cup is coming up! Guess who got us tickets? And in the Top Box, too!"

Marie sighed. It didn't sound _too_ bad.

She glanced around as they were walking. They passed book stores, music stores, burger places, and movie theatres. Not a single one of them looked the least bit magical. Unless those burgers were secretly made with love potions, there was nothing out of the ordinary here.

"Here we are," Dana said, stopping in front of a small, dirty bar.

"Um, last time I checked, we were here to buy a magic wand, not to get drunk. Unless we _are_ here to get drunk, at which point I would start doubting your status as a somewhat sane, responsible adult."

"No, we are not here to drink—hey! _Somewhat_ responsible?"

Marcie deadpanned. "You were the one that showed me how to blow up a seagull using Alka-Seltzer."

"True, but it partly blew up because of your magic."

"Huh? My magic? You told me how it works, though. The Alka-Seltzer causes gas to build up in the seagull, and because it can't burp—KABLAMO!

"Yes, that's true, but normally, they don't explode with rainbow fireworks."

Marcie pondered this. "Oh."

"But anyway, look around. Tell me, what's so special about this dirty old bar?" Dana asked Marcie. She wanted to see if Marcie was smart enough to figure this out on her own.

"Uhhh…hey, are we the only ones who can see it?" Marcie asked.

"Only wizards can see The Leaky Cauldron," Dana told her.

"And now we're talking about defective cauldrons. Nice tangent, Mom," Marcie said sarcastically.

"That's the name of the bar," Dana explained patiently. "Let's go in, shall we?"

They walked into the bar. Marcie glanced around before they entered, but none of the non-magical people seemed to notice them.

As they entered the Leaky Cauldron, they were greeted enthusiastically by the bartender.

"Dana? Dana Prewett?" he asked incredulously.

"Tom," Dana greeted warmly. "It's nice to see you again. Although, it's Dana Davis now."

"Davis? You married? It's been a few years," Tom said, still wondering at the arrival of the long-absent Dana Prewett.

"Yes, although he passed a few years ago," she said sadly, although she still smiled warmly.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What brings you here after all those years? They say you moved to America; I guess they were telling the truth, judging by your accent."

"Yes, I moved to the American state of Missouri, and later moved to California. I guess when you live in a place for so long, you start to talk differently," Dana explained conversationally.

"Who is this?" Marcie asked curiously.

"Oh!" Dana exclaimed. "Marcie, this is Tom. He's an old friend from when I used to come here when I was younger. Tom, this is Marcie, my daughter."

Tom's eyes widened comically. "D-daughter?" He looked closely at Marcie. "How did I not see it? You're the spitting image of your mum."

"Well, Tom, I'd love to catch up, but I need to get into Diagon Alley. Maybe later."

And with that, Dana ushered her daughter through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

"Um, I don't think that this can be considered an _alley_,Mom," Marcie said.

Dana smiled at her daughter. "First rule of the wizarding world: Almost nothing is as it seems." She drew her wand and walked over to the trash can. She carefully counted three bricks up and two across, and then tapped the wall three times with her wand. The brick trembled. It quivered. And then the bricks started turning like pieces of a Rubik's cube. Where the bricks turned, they revealed an opening in the wall. The hole grew bigger and bigger, until it turned into an archway that looked out onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley."

**A/N: I was writing this and then I thought, OMG, great cliffhanger spot. Because it is! Oh, and also, my chapters can seem short because they are about 1,000 words on average. Sometimes they'll be shorter or longer, depending on if I can find a good spot to end it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, I decided to continue this story again. Sorry for disappearing! Hopefully, it won't happen again.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. ****_When you wish upon a star…_**

Chapter 3

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Dana said.

Marcie stared. And stared. And stared. And then—

"Wow! This is so cool! Where to first?"

Dana shook her head. _I guess you never know with her_, she thought. _She didn't even ask how this was possible._

"First we need to go to Gringotts, the Wizarding bank," she told her daughter.

"_The _Wizarding bank?" Marcie repeated. "There isn't another, like, I don't know, WizBank?"

Dana sniggered at her comment. "No, Gringotts is the only one. It's run by goblins, so please don't be surprised when you see one."

"Goblins?!" Marcie exclaimed. "Wicked."

They strolled to the end of the alley, where a huge, ornate building awaited them. As they entered, Marcie spotted a sign on the front doors. She stopped to read it.

"What's with the creepy emo poem?" she asked her mother.

"A warning," she replied. "From the Gringotts goblins to thieves. 'Thief, you have been warned, beware of finding more than treasure there.'"

"So, like traps?" the younger asked.

"Yes," Dana replied. "Dragons, spells, locked doors and false prizes. They have the finest security system in the world."

"I guess they take banking seriously," Marcie muttered.

"C'mon, we have to withdraw some money for your school supplies." And with that, Dana pushed open the doors and strode into the bank. Marcie followed her, gawping at the interior of the edifice as she walked. The scratching of quills and the quiet footsteps of the minute creatures echoed throughout the room.

Dana walked up to a goblin. "I would like to withdraw some money from the Prewett vault."

The goblin tilted his head. "And do you have a key?"

She reached into her purse and withdrew a small brass key. It had a clover pattern on the end with a green stone set in the middle.

The goblin held it up to the light, as if trying to detect a fake. Apparently, it was genuine, because he referred the two to another goblin, who ushered them out another door and into Gringotts's famous tunnel system. As they climbed into one of the infamous carts, Dana grimaced in anticipation.

However, as soon as the goblin started the cart, Marcie's whoops and shouts echoed through the tunnels. The breakneck speed and sharp turns seemed only to excite her further as they ventured deep into the labyrinth.

When the car finally shuddered to a stop, Marcie looked ready for another ride, while Dana looked…grateful to be alive.

The goblin unlocked the vault, and they all stepped inside.

"Wooow!" Marcie gasped. "That's a lot of…umm...coins?"

"The gold ones are Galleons, the silver are Sickles, and the bronze are Knuts. There are seventeen Sickles in a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts in a Sickle," Dana explained.

Marcie deadpanned. "That's easy enough to remember."

Her mother shrugged. "Wizards have magic; they aren't averse to difficult calculations when they can just wave their wands and solve the problem."

"Wizards seem kinda lazy," Marcie stated.

The goblin snickered, but covered it quickly with a coughing fit.

Dana smiled as she scooped several handfuls of gold into her purse. "I guess, in some ways, we are." They exited the vault and Dana blanched at the thought of boarding the cart again.

"Can this thing go any faster?" Marcie asked the goblin. "I bet that'd be awesome!"

The goblin seemed all too willing to prove that the cart did indeed go faster, as the second ride was even more terrifying than the first.

After they left Gringotts, they stopped by Madame Malkin's for some robes. However, when Marcie saw the uniform, she balked.

"I don't know if I want to wear that; it's so old-fashioned," she said to her mother.

"Well," she replied with an impish smirk. "The list says black plain work robes. It doesn't say that we can't modify them."

After the alterations were made, they ended up with robes that were very different from your average Hogwarts uniform.

The sleeves of her cloak were tight, but flared out at the wrist, trailing down to end at her calves. However, they were cut so that Marcie's hands were still visible, and she wasn't hindered by the sleeves. The inside of the cloak was white, and it would change color when Marcie was Sorted. The cloak, however, was not kept closed as per the norm. It was fastened via a single button near the neck, and hung open like a Little Red Riding Hood cloak.

The skirt worn underneath the cloak came down to Marcie's knees, but was black instead of gray. Underneath the skirt, she wore ripped skinny jeans that she had brought along with her to Britain. Her white button-down shirt was actually a tank top, not that you could tell underneath the long-sleeved cloak. She wore battered red Converse instead of the typical black shoes.

Her mother smiled. "I've wanted to modify wizard robes ever since I discovered Muggle fashion.

Still smiling slightly, they exited the shop, leaving Madame Malkin to tut disapprovingly to herself.

After that they collected her books and bought her a cauldron, glass phials, a telescope, and a set of brass scales.

They even bought her a cat, seeing as they had had to give Cheesehead the mouse to a neighborhood kid before leaving. Marcie loved the sleek black cat, and named her Selina.

"Now," Dana said. "It's time to go get your wand."

When they walked into Ollivander's, they were greeted by Ollivander's disembodied voice saying, "Dana Prewett, ebony with unicorn tail hair core, fourteen and a half inches, unbending."

Ollivander walked into view holding half a dozen wands. "I assume you came for a wand for your daughter?"

"That would be correct," she replied.

Ollivander handed Marcie a wand. "Give it a wave," he instructed. She did, and the front desk caught fire.

"No, no, no," he tsked, and snatched the wand away from her. The process continued for half an hour, Marcie causing property damage, and Ollivander gleefully handing her wand after wand.

Finally, Ollivander handed her what would be the last wand. "Elm with dragon heartstring core, twelve and a half inches, unyielding," he informed her.

She waved the wand, and a jet of fire erupted from the wand and danced playfully around the room.

"I believe that is the one," he informed them. They paid and left.

"Geez," said Marcie. "That was exhausting."

"Oh, you got off easy," her mother said. "It took me two hours to find my wand!" They both laughed.

After leaving Diagon Alley, they rented a room at the Leaky Cauldron.

"This is crazy," Marcie mused aloud. "I'm a witch. You're a witch. What's next, talking animals?"

"Hey, there's no need to say it like that," Selina purred indignantly from her spot in the corner.

Marcie gaped.

"Ha ha…I guess I should have told you about the family talent," Dana said sheepishly. "We're the only known Wizarding family with the ability to talk to animals."

"Oh…well, sorry if I sounded rude," Marcie said weakly to Selina.

"It's fine…at least you can actually hear me," Selina told her.

The rest of the night passed as normally as it could with Selina continuously asking to be petted.

** A/N: You'll notice that the dynamic between Marcie and her mother is more like the bond between friends, and less like a mother/daughter relationship. That's just how this family rolls. It's very casual, and they're not afraid to treat each other as equals.**


End file.
